Nikki Burnt
by angel-junkie
Summary: They weren't lying. She just wasn't ready to tell them the truth.


TITLE: Nikki Burnt

SUMMARY: they weren't lying, per say. She just wasn't ready to tell them the truth.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Castle. Kinda cool if I did, though…

A/N: WARNING: THIS IS FULL OF SMUT. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, I SUGGEST YOU LEAVE. RIGHT NOW. I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING. Yes, it starts nice, but by the end… alright, don't say I didn't warn you.

Set during "Tick, Tick, Tick…"

XXX

She stood with her back to the door, hugging herself tightly. This was not supposed to have happened. Not now, not in a million years. And especially not over a dead body. She resigned herself to lifelong singledom years ago, when Will Sorensen had left the city with the FBI. At the time, she had thought that he was her last hope at finding love and happiness. Though, also at that time, she was just happy to have found someone she could share the story of her mother with, that didn't run away, scared of her issues.

But, luckily, or maybe unluckily, depending on the day she was having, she had found someone else. Or, rather, someone else had found her. She hadn't been looking for anyone, and she was quite happy with her life. She had a few dates that didn't totally suck, and a few that, seriously, were not even worth mentioning. But, for the most part, she liked that she didn't have to rush home, that she could take as long as she wanted at work, because there was no-one to worry about her.

But as she stood, looking over the city, she finally realised that maybe having someone worry could actually be nice. Someone she could share her crappy days with, that would bolster her up; give her a shot of faith, even when she felt like she didn't deserve it. Or even when she didn't want it.

Lanie was good for her in that way, but Lanie was only her friend. Her best friend, but Lanie had her own life. Lanie had dates, lots of dates, and thoroughly enjoyed sharing them. The very, very good ones, the absolute train wrecks and all the others that fell somewhere in-between.

As she stood there, she realised they had all left her apartment, finally, and she was able to brood in complete silence. She heard the front door close and rolled her eyes. Almost complete silence.

"For the last time, _nothing happened_." She growled, and turned, not to find Esposito or Ryan, but _him_. Castle.

He smiled that smile that somehow managed to both make her feel at ease and piss her off simultaneously. "Come on, Katie. You don't have to lie to me."

She rolled her eyes in only the way Detective Kate Beckett could, and stared him down. Where once he would have raised his hands in mock surrender, now he simply continued to smile, and inch his way closer. Shaking her head, she turned back to the window. "Don't start with me Castle. Please."

With her back to him, he could study her better. He hadn't seen her like this since they found (stumbled) across her mother's killer. It saddened him to know that she was beating herself up about the whole case. Especially since he felt like he should be apologising to her for putting her in this position. The worry was glaringly obvious in his eyes and his brow furrowed the same way it did when Alexis came to him with a problem he didn't know how to fix.

Standing less than a foot away from her now, he tentatively reached out to touch her elbow, unsure of whether he was going to cop one in the ribs, or if she was going to break down on him.

"Kate," he whispered softly, letting his fingers slip around and grip her arm, tugging gently so she would turn to face him.

She let herself turn, but didn't remove her arms from their locked position across her chest. She stood, now facing him, but with her head lowered so he wouldn't see the sparkle of unshed tears in her green eyes.

He shuffled closer, making the gap between them less than an inch, and used his fingers to gently tilt her head so she was looking at him. He hated seeing her like this, and knew that she hated to be seen this way. But that's what made him, him. He could get away with this stuff, now more so than ever. He stared directly at her, but she refused to meet his gaze, preferring to shift her eyes to a point a little higher than his shoulder.

Now that her head was at least up, he let his hand fall, so that both hands were gripping her elbows. If he wanted to, he could easily drag her into a hug. "Kate," he whispered again, tilting his head so it fell in her line of sight.

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. "Castle, I said don't, okay. So please, just for once, will you actually listen to me?"

He smiled softly. "If I ever listened to you, we wouldn't be here. And while the circumstances suck, I can't think of many places I'd rather be."

She bit her lip and opened her eyes, meeting his briefly, before her own skittered away and she tried to step out of his grasp. But he wasn't having any of it and held her elbows a little tighter. "I have to get dressed. We have to go."

He shook his head. "No. They can wait. And if not, we'll make our own way there. You need time, a few minutes, to collect yourself and your thoughts before we do this."

She sighed and allowed herself to meet his blue eyes, so filled with concern. She was momentarily surprised, but it quickly vanished. They'd been through a fair bit together and she knew, if the roles were reversed, she would be doing the same for him.

Stupid logic and even stupider feelings.

Slowly, he ran his hands up her arms and cupped her face gently, her mind's eye bringing up flashes of the night before.

_Half empty wine bottle. Two empty glasses on the counter. Rick, standing with his hands on her shoulders. Kate, stepping into his embrace._

She bit her lip and looked away from him again, her eyes falling to his chest. He was surprisingly strong, for someone who didn't work out. He had told her he kept himself fit by running around after his mother and Alexis, but she knew it was all a matter of vanity.

What sort of bimbo would lust after an overweight forty-something?

Her eyes found their way back up to his, and she couldn't help herself. Her arms untangled and snaked their way around his body, pulling him close to her. She let her head fall to that spot on his chest where she knew she fit perfectly. His chin rested on her head and he hugged her tightly, unconsciously rocking from side to side as he felt her shoulders hitch.

"Oh, Katie." He whispered. "Shh. It's okay. It'll be okay, I promise. I may not be a tough NYPD cop, but I won't let anything happen to you. Shh."

She closed her eyes tightly again and let her shoulders shake. With every murmured word of comfort, and new memory flashed across her eyes. She let herself cry against his chest, only moving so she could wipe away the tears that had streaked her face. She took deep, calming breaths, taking in the scent that was undeniably and uniquely Richard Castle, bringing forward a fresh wave of snippets from the previous night, eventually all rolling into one.

XXX

She had gone to bed and lay there for almost an hour, and, exhausted as she was, couldn't seem to push herself over the edge and to sleep. As she stared at the ceiling, she could picture Castle roaming through her open apartment, snooping through her things, collecting data for his next Nikki Heat novel.

She wished she had the fight in her to tell him to go and find someone else to be his muse. Follow some other sucker around, annoying them all day. Anyone but her. Rolling over, again, her eyes came to rest on the shelf on the wall that housed all her Richard Castle novels.

She kept them close, as a memento to her mother. The woman who had started her down this path. She had introduced Kate to his novels, and when she was killed they served as both a memory of better times and also as a way to try and understand what had gone through the killer's mind. She was almost grateful that he wouldn't see them sitting there, in order from his first all the way through to Heat Wave.

She rolled again and heard voices, her heart stopping for a minute until she realised he had simply turned the TV on. Sighing, she stared at the glow that seeped under her bedroom door. She heard him chuckle at something on the TV and, before she could change her mind, threw the covers off and sat up. Her socked feet made a soft thud as they connected with the floor and she stood, one hand shoving her gun further under her pillow, the other catching the sleave of an oversized Yankees jumper at the end of her bed.

Walking softly, she headed out into the open lounge and stood, hidden behind the half wall that separated the open plan living room from the bedrooms. She watched as he made himself comfortable on her couch. She had to admit, he did look kind of cute, when he was all snuggled under the throw rug. And when he wasn't being his usual idiotic self. She stepped out, thinking if he heard her or spotted her she could just say she needed a glass of water. But as she got closer and he turned his head to look at her she abandoned all plans and made her way to him.

"Rethinking that glass of wine, Detective?" he asked good-naturedly, swinging his feet to the floor and collecting her glass. She shrugged and sank into the cushions of her favourite chair. The one she usually read in.

"I can't sleep. My mind won't shut down." There was no use in trying to lie to him, he saw right through her every time.

He nodded because he understood. "Here." He handed her the glass and relaxed into the couch, his own glass perched on the armrest. "Wanna talk it out some more? That usually helps."

She shook her head and took a sip. It really was good wine. She should have known. Castle would only have the best. They sat in silence, the only sound coming from the TV, and when the wine bottle touched the rim of their glasses. Before she knew it, the bottle was half gone and it was almost one in the morning.

Groaning, she rolled her head trying to loosen her neck muscles. She had slowly sunk further into the chair, so now her head was wedged between the back and the arm rest, her empty glass dangling from her fingers. Stretching her arms above her head, she looked at the bottle, then at her bedroom door. "I'm going to bed. Maybe I'll sleep this time." She threw a glance to the bottle and stood, swaying slightly.

Castle stood, too, picking up his glass and following her into the kitchen, where he placed it on the counter next to hers. "Kate," he started; his voice husky from non use. She turned to look at him, her features soft with the effects of the wine, plus the lateness of the hour.

"I'm okay." She whispered back, stepping sideways to avoid colliding with him.

"No, wait." He said, reaching out and taking her hand. "I wanna tell you something."

She stopped and looked up at him, using all her power to stop herself from glancing at their still joined hands. She cocked her head in invitation to continue.

"Thank you." He reached out and took her other hand, slowly shifting his own so they were holding loosely onto her elbows. "Kate, I just want to be sure that you know I never meant for any of this to happen. If for one second I thought that this series would put you in danger, I would have stopped writing it. Nikki Heat would have ended with Heat Wave, I swear. I respect you, and think far higher of you than you think. Then you could possibly ever know." He paused and swallowed. "You know I love you in that friends-only kind of way, right?"

She smiled softly and nodded. "Yeah, I kinda got that. You're not so bad yourself, Castle. You annoy the absolute crap out of me, but I don't think we'd work any other way."

He smiled that smile and tugged her closer. "Oh, Katie. I knew deep down there was a little bit of affection for me. Your constant threats to shoot me will never be taken seriously again."

She laughed lightly, and with her arms around his back, he could feel it all through his body. He didn't want to let her go, thoroughly enjoying the way she seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. She was exactly the right height. His hands rested comfortably on her lower back and his cheek leant against her head. He didn't have to bend for her to fit; he didn't have to change his posture at all.

She stepped back slightly so she could look up at him. Her hands snaked their way from his hips to his shoulders and she could see the surprise and naked longing in his eyes. She stood there, in Rick Castle's arms feeling safer and more comfortable than she had in any other, her eyes falling to his lips and he finally understood completely. He moved his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks softly as his thumb drifted softly under her eye.

"Castle," she breathed, tilting her head, her eyes darting from his to his lips.

He could smell her toothpaste and the wine on her breath. "Are you sure?" he asked, involuntarily moving his head closer, trying in vain to keep his eyes on hers. He knew if he dropped them, all hell would break loose.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure."

She looked up and green eyes met blue and the world seemed to stop. Their gaze held for seconds, daring the other to go first and make the leap that would change their relationship forever. Without another thought, he lowered his head and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

Her arms tightened and he bent his neck, trying to get closer. His hands fell from her face to her small hips, pushing her backward into the counter. She arched back and she could feel him pressing into her. Their kiss broke as they went searching for air and their eyes locked again, dark with lust and arousal. Her hand trailed down the back of his head, across his shoulder and wound itself into his shirt collar, dragging him back in for more.

The kiss deepened as Castle lifted her onto the counter, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he shifted his mouth from hers and onto her neck. She threw her head back, granting him better access and let out a soft moan.

"Bedroom… Castle…" she panted and he nodded, his arm muscles flexing as he lifted her easily.

Moments later they were splayed across her bed, their kisses still just as hot and intense as they were in the kitchen, their hands now free to explore the other's body. He lay half across her, and if anyone were to walk in there would be no other way to explain their position. They would have to tell the truth; they were making out like horny teenagers.

She rolled them over, so now she was on top, her knees resting on either side of his hips as his hands explored her back, slipping up and under the oversized jumper she wore. She dipped her head and kissed along his jaw line, pausing only to give him a small bite under his ear.

His hands came out from her jumper and found their way around to the front of her pyjama pants, pulling lightly on the tie that held them up. Moments later, she felt the knot give and his hands on her ass. He twisted his wrists, sliding the plaid printed pants down slightly, softly massaging her thighs as he went.

Moaning into his mouth, she rolled them again, so he was back on top. She lifted her hips, helping him get her out of the pants, running her hands along his chest, heading toward the bottom of his black shirt, tugging at the hem. He pulled back, sitting on her thighs, and tore the top over his head. He didn't have anything on underneath and for the first time Kate Beckett saw Castle's chest.

He wasn't as muscular as he liked everyone to think, but he wasn't skinny or fat, either. He was lean; a small dusting of hair grew high on his chest, and low on his abdomen, but in between was only skin and freckles. She smiled appreciatively and ran a soft hand down the middle of his chest.

"Your turn," he whispered quietly and moved off her legs so she could sit and remove the jumper and tank she wore to bed. She wondered if he would think it weird that she slept in an old bra, preferring it to nothing. Slowly she dragged the items of clothing up over her head, and tossed them to the side, lying back under him.

"God, you're beautiful, Katie." He looked directly into her eyes as he spoke.

She smiled self-consciously, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She knew she was somewhat decent looking. Crims had been hitting on her for years. She watched his face as his eyes travelled down her body and felt a blush rising from her toes to the top of her head.

Reaching out, he ran his finger over a scar on her belly. "Appendix?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, when I was fourteen. As if life isn't hard enough at that age, I had to go get an ugly scar across my stomach."

He looked back up into her eyes, holding her gaze for a few moments, before leaning down and capturing her lips in another hot kiss. Pulling back, he cleared his throat. "I don't want to sound presumptuous, but, I, uh, have something in my wallet. On the coffee table in the lounge."

She could see in his eyes that he was torn. He wanted to do the right thing, but he didn't want to leave her for a second. She smiled. "Top drawer." She flung her arm to the right, pointing at her bedside table.

He leant across her again; his hand and arm brushing her breast as he went, causing her to laugh lightly. He loved that laugh. She sounded so carefree when she did it. Not at all like the jaded, seen-it-all-too-many-times homicide cop that she was. He decided in that very moment that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her laugh like that.

Liberating one of the small, square packages from the box, he returned to her, realising he was still fully clothed from the waist down. Taking the package from his hands, she held it in her teeth and motioned for him to get up and get naked. Grinning like the juvenile minded man she had gotten to know, he stood on her bed. Seconds later he was completely nude. He could feel himself getting harder with just her eyes travelling his body.

Kneeling above her now, he hooked his fingers in the edge of her panties and slowly dragged them down her legs, placing random kisses to the inside of her thighs as he went. He felt her shudder and heard her moan and smiled. He kissed his way back up her legs, studiously avoiding the one place he knew she wanted it, and found her lips again, the wrapper discarded on the floor and the condom almost in place.

Her hands were cool and soft as she gently slid the rubber over him. Kissing her fiercely, he positioned himself at her entry, broke away to look in her eyes as he pushed into her that first time. She let out a small gasp as he filled her completely, her eyes slipping shut. He had been right all along; it had been a long time.

He pulled almost completely out of her, before plunging back in. As their breathing quickened, so did their pace, and soon the room was filled with the laboured breathing and moans of two people thoroughly enjoying themselves. She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her back, urging him to go deeper and harder. And then he slowed again, kissing along her collarbone to her throat, wanting so badly to leave a mark there, but knowing she would definitely shoot him if he did.

Worse yet, she wouldn't let a repeat of this night happen.

He pushed harder, holding himself inside her for seconds at a time, before withdrawing slightly, only do push in deep again. He could feel her getting closer and closer to the edge and willed himself not to explode until she did. Her arms braced against the headboard, pushing so she met him and allowing him to go deeper.

She called his name when she came, letting out a low moan and arching her back, withering with the spasms that accompanied her climax. He was right there with her, lowering his head, kissing her as they floated down from their high. After a few seconds, he pulled out and collapsed next to her, throwing an arm across her stomach and pulling her close to him.

"Never would have picked you for a cuddler, Castle." She whispered hoarsely, turning her head to look at him.

He laughed and kissed her softly. "I'm not. But there's just something about you, detective Beckett." He replied, not looking away from her sparkling green eyes.

They lay like that, just looking at each other, in post-coital bliss for what felt like hours. They were comfortable with each other. He shifted so he was on his back, his right arm under her head, hugging her to him. She threw a leg over his and drew soft, lazy patterns on his stomach until they fell asleep.

XXX

When morning came, Kate woke to find her bed minus one person. She wondered if she had dreamt all that had happened the night before. Then she wondered if Castle had known she had a sex dream. Groaning softly, she rolled over to find her pyjamas strewn across the bedroom floor, and realised it wasn't just a dream. She really had slept with Richard Castle.

It was a fan-girl fantasy she would never, in a million years, admit to.

She quickly threw on some clothes, intent on finding out where exactly her bed partner had gone. It didn't take long. He was in the kitchen, making her pancakes and jabbering about how poorly stocked her fridge was. Like it even mattered, anyway.

They had had sex. Something she had sworn to herself she was never going to do. But as she stood there, head spinning with the domesticity of it all, she couldn't help but think _"I could get used to this"_.

_So, my first "Castle" fic. I hope it wasn't too bad, and that Castle and Beckett weren't too OOC. I figure, if I can picture them and hear them saying it, it can't be that wrong. Let me know. _

_Also, I literally had about fifteen different titles for this one story. This one stuck because of the particular episode, and also, while I was writing it, it was saved as "Hot, Hot, Castle" on my hard-drive. Figured I can't go too wrong with that._

_Cheers!_


End file.
